


Twisted

by behindskylines (deanlovessammymorethanpie)



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanlovessammymorethanpie/pseuds/behindskylines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan was just watching television, and now, he totally owes Jon, like, a cake.  In the shape of a cat, even.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on April 1, 2008 on livejournal under the name himmerethwen (an lj username I used previously).

To be honest, Ryan wasn’t sure how it really happened. One day, he was just sitting on his couch, watching another re-run of That 70’s Show when Brendon waltzed in to his house, and laid out the colored plastic mat in front of his coffee table. 

“Umm, hi?” he said, trying to be heard over the canned laughter on the television, and the plastic rustling as Brendon straightened the dots on the floor. Brendon took out the sucker in his mouth with an audible pop, blue tongue licking blue lips. “Hey!” He smiled, and resumed his task of getting that damn corner to lie flat. 

“Uh, if you don’t mind my asking…what in the hell are you doing?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing, Ross?” Brendon retorted, tongue moving the stick of candy to one side. 

Ryan turned off the TV, leant forward and said, “It looks like you’ve barged into my house without telling me you were coming, interrupted my daily That 70’s Show hour, laid a fucking Twister mat on my floor, and now, you’re standing in front of my TV with your hands on your hips, and that ridiculous sucker in your mouth.” 

Brendon nodded. “Yeah, that’s about it.” He smiled big, blue lips spreading. 

Ryan held up a finger, warningly. “And before you even ask, I am not playing Twister with you.” 

“Oh, come on, Ryan! I’ve never played it before! My parents wouldn’t let me…” Brendon prepared for a huge pleading session, big lip already jutting out, silly with the sucker still in his mouth. His eyebrows came up and that lip started to quiver. 

“You know, you better pick up that lip before someone steps on it.” Ryan joked, knowing that Brendon wouldn’t stop pouting until he got up off of the couch, and twisted his body into a pretzel on his floor, like an idiot. 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 

And somehow, half an hour later, there he was, twisting his body into a pretzel on his floor, like an idiot. 15 minutes of that half hour were spent with Brendon following him around the house with that lip of his. He gave up when Brendon tried to wedge himself into the bathroom, close on his heels. “Alright, FINE! Just let me pee in peace!” The other 15 minutes was spent trying to get Brendon to calm down enough to take off his shoes, and to figure out how they were going to spin the spinner while playing. After all, it was only the two of them. 

“Right foot, blue!” Brendon shouted, excitedly, bending over backwards, teetering precariously on one hand and two feet. 

Ryan only grumbled a little bit while shifting his foot from the green dot to the blue, aware of the sudden weight transfer on to his other hand, and felt Brendon lean up against him momentarily. “No cheating, Bren.” 

“I’m not…I’m just trying to…” Brendon reached forward again, flicking the small arrow until it spun, and landed. “Left hand, green!” 

Another shift and another moment of support. “Left foot, yellow!” 

Oh fuck. Ryan went down, landing hard on his butt with one of Brendon’s feet under him. Brendon didn’t mind, as he fell down too, laying out next to him and laughing. 

“It’s not funny,” Ryan muttered, picking himself up. “Alright, help me pick it up.” 

“Pick it up?” Brendon’s thick eyebrows knit in confusion. “But, we’re not done yet. You have to take off your shirt…” 

“Take off my…what?” Ryan squeaked. 

“Your shirt. The first one to fall has to take off his shirt, and then their pants, and then their socks, and then their boxers…” 

Ryan stared at him, hard, trying to figure out what was going on. “Bren, what are you talking about?” 

“That’s what Jon said. That’s how you play Twister….right?” 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Another hour, and some pouting, later, Ryan spun the spinner with his foot, watching it as it landed on ‘Left foot, green’. He slid his foot to the green dot, shifting his weight as he went. He was down to his boxers, and his socks, Brendon only had on his boxers. This was because every time Brendon felt himself starting to fall, he started laughing and fell even harder. It was like he wanted to lose. And that’s just what happened. He shifted his weight too hard, and Brendon wobbled, knocking into Ryan and sending him to the floor, only to squish him a split second later. 

“Oof. Thanks, Bren. Now, get off of me.” Ryan forced out on very little breath. 

Brendon giggled as he sat up, taking a second before hefting himself up to stand on the edge of the mat. His hands landed on the waistband of his boxers, and he winked at Ryan suggestively before shimming out of them in one move. Ryan wanted to avert his eyes, but couldn’t. Seriously, it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other naked before, with sharing small buses, and small dressing rooms, but never before had the nakedness been for a frivolous reason such as this. It was to be covered with sweats or stage clothes. And never before had Ryan had the impulse to just stare. 

Brendon tried not to smile too hard. “You too, Ry. Socks gotta come off.” 

Ryan looked up at him incredulously. “But, wait. No…you fell into me. You knocked me down. You…” he trailed off, desperately trying to force his eyes to stay above the imaginary belt, dammit. 

“Come on, Ryan. Those are the rules.” Brendon crossed his arms in front of him. 

“Fine.” He took off his socks, leaving him in just his boxers. “Just spin the damn thing.” 

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Ryan knew the rules. Of course he knew the rules. Any kid alive in the 90’s, with the exception of Brendon, apparently, knew the rules to Twister. The fact of the matter is, Ryan liked playing retarded children’s games with Brendon. He liked that Brendon came over to his house unannounced in the middle of the morning or afternoon, in the middle of the night, just to sit on the couch and watch TV, or to play Rummy and checkers, to curl up next to him in bed, breath sweet and warm against his neck. Ryan liked spending time with Brendon, no matter what they did. And now, his calf was nestled up against Brendon’s neck and his breath was tickling the hairs behind his knee, driving him insane as he tried to spin the spinner. “Uh…um…red. Red foot, left.” 

Brendon giggled, warm breath coming out in spurts against the sensitive skin of Ryan’s knee. “Red foot?” He glanced at Ryan, a broad expanse of bare back in between them. That one look set Ryan on fire. He felt goose-bumps rise on his arms, and it took an extra bit of force to send the plastic arrow twirling. Choking on his air, Ryan squeaked, “Left foot, yellow.” He trembled slightly as he placed his foot, and felt his heel graze against Brendon’s sharp hipbone. Ryan collapsed in a heap. 

Suddenly, Brendon was hovering above him, supporting his weight on his arms braced on either side of Ryan’s head. “Enough playing around.” He dropped to his elbows, placing his face inches away from Ryan’s, close enough that Ryan could smell the sweet smell hidden behind his lips. Brendon looked at Ryan, searching for something in his eyes, giving him the opportunity to back out if he didn’t want this. If he was scared of this. 

He was right. Brendon did taste like blue raspberries. 

Brendon fell to him, returning the kiss. He brought one hand to cup the back of Ryan’s head, bringing his lips closer, fisting the brown hair between his fingers. Ryan locked his arms behind Brendon’s head, tilting his own, gasping as Brendon’s hips landed on his own with an off-centered thrust. And as Ryan slipped out of his boxers, the plastic squeaked under his ass. 

“Goddamn, Bren…” Ryan sighed against Brendon’s neck, rubbing his heel against the back of Brendon’s leg. 

“Hmmm, what, Ryan?” 

“Do that again.” 

“What…this?” Bren teased him, tensing his hips over Ryan’s before sliding forward, hard cocks rubbing, glancing. 

“Mmmm, yeah. That…oh.” Ryan gasped again as Brendon pressed against him. 

Brendon seemed to like the sounds coming from Ryan, so as Brendon humped against him, both of them getting sweaty, Ryan kept making them. He latched his teeth to the side of Brendon’s long neck, and sucked lightly, biting. Brendon shook above him, thrusting erratically. He nudged the top of Ryan’s head until the suction on his neck stopped, and lips were available for kissing. As they kissed, Brendon’s hip bones chaffed against Ryan’s, but neither cared as the sounds they made grew higher in pitch, and more frequent. Ryan’s long fingers grasping his hair pulled Brendon away from the kiss. Ryan wanted to look him in the eye as Brendon made him come. 

“So long, waited so…long…” Ryan managed to force out between rapid breaths before coming apart under Brendon. Twitching under Brendon, decorating them both with hot liquid. It was the hottest thing that Brendon had ever, and would ever, witness. That thought alone drove him to follow in Ryan’s footsteps, their skin sticky and moist now. 

Brendon fell on top of Ryan, breathing hard, skin wet against Ryan’s chest. “I know,” he gasped out. Ryan grabbed the corner of the mat under them, and rolled them into the warm plastic, like a cocoon. After they caught their breath, they both smiled at each other stupidly, and kissed again. 

“Hey Ryan…I called you like, four times. We’re…” Spencer’s voice just stopped mid-sentence. He had walked into the house without knocking, like the numerous times before. His bright blue eyes swiftly took in the scene before he slapped his hand across his eyes. “You’ve just raped my childhood!” He backpedaled out of the house, eyes still covered before closing the door with more force than was necessary. 

Brendon looked at Ryan. They both broke out laughing. 

Ryan traced a finger down Brendon’s cheek. “So, why didn’t your parents let you play Twister?” 

Grinning up at him, Brendon’s eyes glowed with mischief. “They thought that it was too sexual.” 

Ryan laughed into Brendon’s mouth before kissing him again.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
